So you may ask, why all the pics of Baby E?  Well, they were from that day – decked out in her little “monster” fleece from the Gap – but really everything leads back to her. We’ve been attending a wonderful church here in Frisco called Hope Fellowship.  Even have a small group – everyone is lovely and have young kids and we look forward to getting to know them better. On Sunday Pastor John started a series about Elijah.  And oh my gosh – it was like God was speaking directly to me.  It was all about how God uses us in times of strife – how we don’t always know why things are happening but how God sees the whole picture and how we have to learn total dependence on Him. Going back to Saturday, it was a normal weekend day for us, except that Vann was at my grandmother’s house helping my family with the estate sale.  I stayed at home with the girls, and for whatever reason both of them were getting on my LAST nerve.  Baby Ella is: cutting multiple teeth, a nightmare in the high chair, seemingly whining ALL the time, and not quite steady on the tile floor, which causes a lot of bumped noggins and a lot of crying. I’m sitting there, feeding her baby food, again, and she’s spitting everything out.  Ok, I think, I’ll try some shredded turkey.  Or some cheese.  Or green beans.  Spitting.  It.  All.  Out. “Fine!”, I shout at her, “If you aren’t going to eat anything I give you then you can just go to bed hungry.  I really don’t care.” More crying. Something else to point out: Daylight Savings Time is a gift for all people except parents of young kids.  You may think you are getting an extra hour, but nnnnooooooo.  Not when your children are up at 6 am. So naps are all screwy and she is seemingly ready for bed and it’s only 5:30 pm.  Bedtime isn’t for another hour and a half. Still crying. I’m looking at her as she’s crying and this wave of anger comes over me.  I feel out of control.  I feel an amazing amount of resentment towards my sweet child and I realize that if I don’t get a moment to cool down – well, I would never hit my children but let’s just say that I understand how people can get to that place. I plop her in her crib and close the door.  She’s out in two seconds. I give Charlie her dinner and tell her that I’m going to go do something upstairs and to eat and I’ll be back. And I barely get up to the playroom before I’m collapsing on the couch with my head in my hands.  Screaming in my head – a deep longing for my child to have some independence.  The soonest Early Childhood Intervention can get out to the house is the day before Thanksgiving.  I had called already prior to my episode on Saturday.  I’m glad they’re coming.  I want to know how she’s doing, eating and all. Look, Ella is a bright and happy baby.  She’s super curious and loves to giggle and LOVES her older sister.  She plays and picks things up, she does all the things babies her age are doing. Except for feeding herself.  Except for clapping.  Except for pulling up on anything.  I can’t help that these three things concern me. And in my heart, I am resentful towards my baby.  I want to tell her to buck up, to be like other kids her age, to pick up a frickin’ cube of CHEESE for goodness sakes, anything! So back to Elijah, I realized that for whatever reason, this situation with Ella is my Kerith Brook: 1 Kings 17

Elijah Announces a Great Drought

1 Now Elijah the Tishbite, from Tishbe[a] in Gilead, said to Ahab, “As the LORD, the God of Israel, lives, whom I serve, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word.”

Elijah Fed by Ravens

2 Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah: 3 “Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. 4 You will drink from the brook, and I have directed the ravens to supply you with food there.” 5 So he did what the LORD had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. 6 The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook. As Pastor John said, God put Elijah in a place of isolated pain – he had to have total dependence on Him.  God put Elijah in the Kerith Brook.  And right now, that’s what I feel.  God has me in this place – He’s trying to teach me something, about myself, about selflessness, about being a mother.  And all it feels like right now is a series of isolated pain.    Check out Pastor John’s sermon here. What is your Kerith Brook??

Ok, so I know that the upcoming season is not really about giving or getting gifts. I know that the TRUE reason for the season is the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ…but I can’t help but love it for many other reasons. It is such a glorious time, truly, by far my favorite time of year (next to Fall). I always get the blues a bit after New Year’s – I just adore decorating, picking out the perfect gift for your loved one, winter-scented candles – the works. I grew up in a very Christmas-centric family. Every year, for as long as I can remember, Santa’s left goodies under the tree. Milk and cookies were put out, even though we knew my Dad was the one to blame for the empty plate the next morning. We always hung stockings, and let’s not forget the freshly baked cinnamon rolls and hearty breakfast my Mom always made for us after the excitement of present-opening was done.Since Vann and I have been married, we’ve continued some of these traditions, stockings for one. We each get a budget and the challenge is to find all of those little, fun, unexpected goodies that you know will make each other smile. We’ve done bigger gifts as well: last year, in the heat of learning how to breastfeed and battling through those first sleepless nights (in an apartment that was way too small for our growing family), “Santa” surprised me with the most beautiful Louis Vuitton bag. It was such a special gift, a once in a blue moon sort of thing, painstakingly picked out by my caring hubby. I think he knew what our 2010 would look like – a Louis bag is certainly not going to be in Santa’s sleigh this year! And of course that’s ok. I find that I’m having a difficult time accepting that I won’t be able to do all of the things I want to do this year: replace our slim, apartment-sized tree with a bigger tree, buy all sorts of seasonal items to decorate our home, hang lights on the outside – these are just a few. I think it might be more prudent to pay off our appliances first. Boo.So as I sit here and think about my Christmas list (yes, I know I’m 32 but I still make one and probably always will – my love language is gifts, by the way) I’m trying to figure out which way to go.Cash is always nice. What person doesn’t want a little extra spending money around the holidays? Maybe I can ask Santa to call Sears and tell them to stop sending us bills? Do you think he’d just write them a check? I admit it’d help me sleep better at night. Or how ‘bout paying off the rest of what we owe on our car? I think that’s somewhere around $5,000. Do you think Santa has that kind of money?But I digress.There do happen to be a few small things that I’d like, but I’m still mulling it over. I keep telling myself that what we can’t do this year, hopefully we can make up for next year. And I guess the girls won’t really understand if Santa only brings them one gift vs. the three that I had decided would be “the” number (because, after all, if it’s good enough for Baby Jesus, it’s good enough for them)…Maybe my letter to Santa should read like this:Dear Santa,Can we just be frank?? Will you please erase the memory of our horrific move (emotionally and financially) and just let me go ahead and hang all the garland I want to this Christmas??Love, Amanda

I just happened to look at Kelly’s blog to see if our pics were up and…gasp!

Remember this post? I can’t get my sweet online mama friend out of my mind.

Do you ever have moments when you really fear life and death? I admit, I don’t think about that kind of stuff too often – you know, where you have a flash of what life might be like without your husband, children, family, etc.? Don’t know why, but last night lying in bed with Vann asleep next to me, I had that thought. I thought of my friend L, and wondered how she is doing, how she is able to care for her three other children, love her husband.

I’ve read babylost mamas feel like one day they are one person and the next day they are another. Life takes on a different hue, a different light. I think about this sometimes when I feel frustrated with the girls and need some peace. What would the world look like if either of them was to leave it, having known them and loved them and birthed them?

I’ve been following this blog called Salty/Sweet. Oh man. What a story.

L got a tattoo of Cullen’s first initial on the inside of her wrist. Now that’s something tangible, something you see everyday, a reminder of what you have lost and what still remains. I could see myself doing the same thing.

Which makes me think that without Jesus, how in the world do you have any peace about the afterlife and where we go when we leave this place?

I know that L is going to share Cullen’s birth story with all of us soon. I am anxious to hear what happened that day. I messaged her and told her that I wished we were “real life friends” so I could know her and love her and let her just be…here. Here’s what she wrote back:

Amanda –

It is words like yours that somehow bring me peace. Knowing that other people whom I have never even ‘met’ in the real world care about his story is so very comforting. There are so many friends that come in and out of our lives- some that we can see, others that we talk to. Both are treasures. Somehow everything that has come out of this blog has been comfort and support. There is no greater gift for me right now so thank you my friend.

Love and grace- L